


Two Scars

by Petrichor503



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichor503/pseuds/Petrichor503
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was turned in my twenty seventh year, I never knew I could love until you fell into my grasp. This is my story, the story of how I died and how I survived in the arms of one man, a man that was taken from me.' Immortal Sherlock, Sheriarty, Johnlock, depictions of suicide, death and some foul language</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A life taken

**Author's Note:**

> The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.

It was the year 1902, London was my prefered location for my work….consulting, that was my job, consulting detective, the one and only in the world, of course I made the job up, stocks and banks were never my forte, so dull so boring! My brother of course opted for the highest job London could offer, but me…no...I needed to feel the air on my face as I dashed about the dreary streets, needed the adrenaline, needed the blood pumping through my veins. Those were the days. The days of chasing criminals and bringing them back to scotland yard, the days of sunlight and the days of living. Of course thats all I seem to do these days, live...well not so much living but surviving, watching the world past as my lives mold into one. surviving until I met him, he was the most enigmatic human being I ever had the good fortune of knowing...his death…. his death.. no, no I can't write about it yet, why is this so difficult for me to put onto paper it has been 66 years and still I remember it like it was yesterday, but I can’t talk about it now, I wont. But I will talk about professor James Moriarty.  
He was a force that demanded attention, my attention, our affair began in 1900, we had met through scotland yard and had become quite friendly to say the least, he dominated me in all things including the bedroom but he could because he was James Moriarty, he had everything and he had me. 

That summer it was the hottest we had ever been in the middle of Soho, Moriarty and I had been meeting in secret for a few months, if they had known back then we would of been imprisoned for sure, well not so much James he had almost everyone in London under his thumb, he could be invisible if he wanted and I admired that, in awe really of how intelligent he was so unlike the other men I had been acquainted with. We met at my residence every thursday night, he would silently walk up the stairs to startle me but it never worked I was far more agile, he would creep up behind me and savagely kiss my neck which seems ironic now given the two circular scars, but we would compete in dominance and of course he won, he always won.  
“My darling Sherlock when will you learn that I will always beat you, now bend over I’m going to claim that magnificent arse of yours.”  
I always let him of course I did, I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, he was the animal that claimed my soul, I would pant, scream and moan from the sexual torture I endured, I had never been so alive in his company, he would pull, push and unwillingly take me but I needed what he gave me, he gave me adrenaline and the drugs to make it through the painful days, it was a small price to pay for a slow, antagonising death. He was the devil…  
“Now stay still for me darling, I’m going to mark you, claim you and then fuck you until you can’t walk...Sherlock….you beautiful thing, you will be mine, body and soul, I will possess you whether you agree or not”  
I wanted to be his, to be owned, I remember the memories now and wish I had seen or noticed, how could I have not known what he was, until it was too late, he got what he wanted, of course he did, he wanted my soul and he got it.  
I feel the two scars on my neck, they have faded now, it’s been so long but it is not something I have ever forgotten, how I was reborn or how I died. It was my twenty seventh year and Mr Moriarty surprised me at Baker Street, I knew he had something for me he always did when he visited and this time the drug of choice sent me on a blissful high, I blocked out the whole world and embraced the affection Moriarty gave me, he drew his mouth to my neck and began to suck I moaned just like every suck, lick and bite, but this was different it was more powerful, more lustful and extremely painful, I hadn’t known what he had done until he left me naked, bloodied and bruised on the wooden floor, my legs started to tremble and I couldn’t move from the aching in my head, something was wrong, drugs had never done this before but there was a name for the new drug that was coursing through my body, death. My heart finally stopped beating after what felt like an eternity of hell, my body was reborn, I awoke to the sound of life outside my window, carriages were being pulled, woman were laughing and I could hear the rustle of the morning newspaper but I also felt the burn in my throat I needed something to quench my thirst, I remember looking around the room for something, anything. A champagne glass was sitting on my desk, with a small note accompanied. it read.  
‘Drink this my love and you will feel much better.’  
The thirst took over as I lifted the glass and drank the red liquid, it was warm on my throat, I let out a sigh of relief as the burning sensation diminished. James Moriarty had taken my life and replaced it with a monster. I joined Moriarty willingly, he provided for me, cared for me and taught me everything to know about my new life, he introduced me to others like us and illuminated me on his past, he was the definition of evil I just didn't know it yet. I continued to deduce and work for scotland yard, although my aversion to the sunlight became more challenging as the years went on and eventually I could no longer withstand the sun, but I kept my business from behind closed door and closed curtains which proved beneficial for small insignificant cases where I did not have to leave the flat, it was challenging to endure the scent of human blood, I killed clients, drank them then left them, the scent was sometimes too unbearable to control, I was an animal and Moriarty took advantage of that, we used my charm and beauty to lure both women and men to our grasps, I watched as the light left all of them and I remember every single one, how they felt how they tasted and how they fought until the last breath. A professional killer and I enjoyed it, I relished in the chase especially with the women, I didn’t have to work hard to claim them they would come willingly, they still do.

Miss Irene Adler was the very definition of a woman, she claimed the title and always took the situation that one step further, introduced by Mr Moriarty Irene was the embodiment of satan...in high heels, she mesmerised me with her flowing locks, red eyes and leather corset, so beautiful, I knew what she was by looking at her she was a killer like me and she loved it. Turned when she was twenty, far too young in my opinion but she was dangerous, she gave no mercy and took willingly, men did not stand a chance in her presence nor did I, she thwarted me at every turn and every deduction, it was a game and one I was loosing at, well...still am loosing at.  
‘I will always be the woman who beats you Sherlock Holmes.’  
Her voice was always so seductive and sultry and Moriarty used us both to play the game of survival and we were good at it. I say were as it is past tense, but I will get to that shortly as it’s quite a long story but I need to write it down now otherwise I never will, I need to be with him and this is the only way so I will proceed. where was I...ah yes...Irene Adler, she disappeared in 1945 after the second World War, it broke my heart to say the least, the many years we were together vanished along with her but she soon reappeared when she needed to, I was not so forgiving though, how could I be when Moriarty controlled my every move, I was a slave and there was no escape….Oh John..John why is this so difficult to remember, I remember every single day with you but my story must go in order, I will get to you soon my love. God I miss you. I will be with you soon.


	2. The Angel and the Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Time is nothing to an immortal who must live out his days after everyone else, the truth of immortality begins to take its toll as you age and I do not"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To die would be an awfully big adventure

London was bruised after the Second World War, nothing was ever the same especially with Irene gone, the days were longer, meals were boring and nothing could capture my interest for more than a minute, I was insufferable to say the least so I began to rebel, I would starve myself until the impulse to kill was unbearable, I killed recreationally because I was bored, bored of living this life and the know that I had nothing to stop it with, I would of ended my life a long time ago but being immortal causes difficulties in that area, Moriarty wouldn't let me destroy his monster. James began to wander more cursing more helpless individuals, ending their lives and then restarting them, I couldn't stand him and yet he was the only one I wanted in my company, he was frustratingly good and what he did, manipulation was his forte and my he was good, to this day I have no idea when he was reborn, of course I had my speculations and of course I always asked, although I knew he would never answer the question, he was far too clever to let out personal information especially to me, he knew I would kill him and yet we played the game anyway.   
I had no interest in the affairs of others, I walked the cobbled streets like a God, and I was, I could give and take away life and I relished in it, men would buckle at me feet begging for their lives and sometimes I was generous but other times I was brutal. I smile now recalling how theatrical I was…still am. It was all a part of the game, who could score the most pitiful human, the most attractive woman, the most regal of people, yes the game was fun but after a while the days moulded into one blur, I finally decided to leave, London was no longer a safe place for me after our identities were discovered but it was James who was the first to leave, I couldn't of been more grateful, I was no longer under his watchful eye, for the first time I was truly alone, I began to travel across the world, New Zealand, Austria, Germany then finally settling in Afghanistan March 21st 1975, the weather was warm and the air was clear unlike London, I took up residency in an unknown location in the mountains and demanded complete solitude which I was given, no Irene, no Moriarty just me and my loneliness. 

I occupied a decade in solace, sleeping, reading and consulting all from the comfort of my lodgings but I was soon disturbed by yet another war, my solitude ended and I was once again forced to vacate, of course I denied to move and the landlord took it quite well after I drank him, I refused to be moved by an inferior human. The English armies soon began to send in their men, the situation was dire and I had no intention of leaving the country, I finally found peace from Moriarty, there was no way I was leaving, I liked the chaos as it made for an easy kill for who would notice a man's death when a war was raging against him. I killed anybody that was willing to end their life, the soldiers would be entranced by my beauty and sometimes I didn't kill them, they would soon die of hunger or a bullet so why deny them a night of passion, I would take their secrets and use them for myself, I had nothing to lose certainly not my life.   
I recall the memory, I was sitting in a bar in July 1991 I knew I wanted a fuck and the easiest place to get that was ‘The Dark’ a bar hidden between the establishments that worked during the day. This place was more crowded than usual because of the newly recruited soldiers and my they were beautiful, their uniform gave them a power which unfortunately held me speechless, I wanted the prettiest one of the lot and of course I got what I wanted, I had gotten use to getting my way because I was immortal and no one would challenge me, they wouldn't dare. Rumours began to circulate of my being and my intentions, my secret was not a secret for very long and before I knew it I was the most feared and most desirable man in Afghanistan. Men would fall in my lap but I was too tired and bored to end their lives, my world revolved around fucking and drinking. The men in my company bowed at my feet, there was no more seducing just fast paced fucking that left them intoxicated, bruised and broken. I cared not for their well being nor their stories of battle, I did not care whether they lived or died I only took what I needed. The war between the humans lasted longer than I expected and word of my whereabouts began to lure more immortals to Afghanistan, claiming more lives, but I did not expect the woman to come running. I sat at the nearest bar and held my head in my hands, my loneliness had grown with each passing day and I knew it would soon be time for me to take my life, for what was I living for? I had nothing. The vodka didn't even touch the side, what I needed was stronger and there was only one man that could give it to me, but I refused to need him, I didn't even know where he was. The bar became quiet as someone entered the establishment, the sound of heels on wood was very distinctive and I knew that sound anywhere, she came up beside me and pushed her long red nails through my unruly hair, god how I missed her touch, the only person to render me inferior, her red lips brushed mine and claimed my mouth for her own, I would of bowed to this woman.  
“Mr Holmes, it’s been an age.”  
Irene Adler, my loneliness had subsided as her hand cupped my face and her thumb caressed my cold cheek. We spent the night together, wrapped in each others stories of survival and solitude, for the first time I saw her difficulties and sadness, she hated everything and everyone, her tale of immortality shocked me for a woman of her status, a tale she will never tell another and one I shall not reveal even in my last hours. She resided with me for many months until she abruptly left, I can honestly say her departure broke a part of my unbeating heart, she is the only woman I have ever loved, the only woman who had the power to fight and challenge me, I haven't heard from her since and am unlikely to, her whereabouts eludes me and quite frankly if I knew she was alive I may rethink my choices to end my immortality, maybe I shall see her again in another time and another life. 

But I shall move forward to the one person I devoted my soul to...

The army began to send more men to the front-line, the lives lost was catastrophic and the men were losing hope, it was 2001 when I first gazed upon Captain Watson, he couldn't have been older than twenty two, to be in a war so young, he was different than the other men that craved my attention, he wanted no attention whatsoever, he hid in the shadows and doubted every move he made, shy but alluring and yet so intriguing, unlike any human I had ever come across. I began to watch him as he worked, an army doctor, it was very impressive to watch him gain control, he went from a shy boy to a respected man in a matter of minutes. The way his body move on his command was attractive and to be honest a little sexy, I never could resist a man in uniform. For the first time since I was reborn I felt hope, hope that I could possibly live for another reason, that my immortality could be shared with someone who didn't want to kill me or play the never ending game of dominance. I believed in this soldier and I wanted to meet him, I needed to know him, although I could deduce his every move I wanted him to tell me about his past and his mind, it needed to come from him and I wanted to know everything, of course this never happened until a year later. During that year I kept a close eye on him making sure that no harm ever came to him, but I also watched as he took lovers and other soldiers to his room, it was fascinating to see how he moved during this intimate embrace, there was no fight for dominance, just two men unlike anything I had ever encountered with James or with any of the men I ever fucked, it was as if I was watching a delicate ballet, it was soft and fragile. I stood in the shadows just watching, he gained the title three continents Watson which makes me laugh even now, he was the gentlest person I ever knew.

Our paths finally crossed in the most dire of situations, he was shot in July 2002. I had made the habit of following Captain Watson which for his sake was the best thing I could of ever done as it saved his life, not that his wound was fatal but it did need urgent attention. The dessert was too hot, far too hot for any soldiers to be on but that didn't stop them, it never did, they raged through the heat to aid in the never-ending war that quite frankly I don't even know how started even to this day, I stood near a large van that provided me shelter from the sun and I could see every move the army made especially the moves of Captain Watson.   
The amount of soldiers that were injured was rising by the minute and I knew they would soon retreat or I thought they would, the British can be stubborn and with the help of Watson the soldiers were being patched where they lay, his handiwork was impressive but I caught a glimpse of his face as he stood and he looked tired, worn and I knew he wouldn't last long in the field, but as he stood he saw me staring, he caught sight of me in the shadows, we looked at each other but the moment soon declined rapidly….he was hit, he grasped his bloodied shoulder and groaned from the pain, I wasted no time and raced to his side, I ripped my shirt and pressed the cloth to his shoulder, I laid him gently in my arms and looked into his sky blue eyes, they were beautiful and kind, he tried to talk but soon blacked out from the pain. I remember holding his limp body as shouts were heard around me, I had never felt panic like this, the panic of Captain Watson not waking up and the knowing that I could do nothing to stop it and the panic of my my emotions, I had never felt anything like that before, I didn't want him to die but I knew he wouldn't, the injury was not severe but it would place him out of action for a while, which of course he was. 

Captain Watson spent two months in the Infirmary, the bullet passed straight through his shoulder so the wound healed quite nicely but his mind was fragile on the cusp of fatality, I could see it in the way he looked at the other soldiers and from the brutality of his nightmares which awoke him every night. When he became mobile he sought me out, there were whispers about the soldiers of an immortal man who walked through Afghanistan like a ghost, this of course sparked the Captains interest and asked more questions, his curiosity of the man who saved him grew every day, he would soon find me though with an idea of who I was as I had gained a title amongst the soldiers, what was the word….ah yes, Vampire, my name all but forgotten in the midst of terror and passion, the immortal man who took your body then your soul.. I will admit I quite liked the title but I hadn't killed an English soldier in over a year, I was surviving on the blood of the opposing soldiers, I was doing my part for the war. Most of my time was spent in a beaten down hotel room, where the sun never shone and quiet was in good measure, there was no bed just a soot covered fireplace and a tatty arm chair, but it was calming and I could think, all I wanted to do was think, about everything from James Moriarty to Captain Watson, they never left the depths of my mind palace, but something was always missing, was it company? companionship to share my lonely life with? I had received a letter from James a month prior to meeting Captain Watson, his spies found my location and it was time for me to return, but return to what? London, back to the game and back to surviving? I did not go running back for I had found something more meaningful, I found John Watson. 

His voice was like listening to a chorus of angels, soft and inviting and so innocent that I could hardly believe anyone like him existed, so pure...the angel and the demon. He learnt of my location which was sheltered away from the town in an abandoned hotel, the establishment had been burnt in a fire four months ago and this is where I resided, I watched as he stood outside and gazed at the decrepit building, I suppose he wondered if he had the right building, for who could possibly live in such circumstances, but my dear Watson I never lived. I heard the rustle of his uniform and the groan of pain as he climbed the black staircase, he would of seen the glow of the candles to indicate that he had the right place, he pushed open the door and walked into the room.   
“Hello..I'm looking for someone.” I stood and looked into the man that had captured me speechless, his beauty was indescribable and I had never felt so alive.  
“I suppose that would be me Captain Watson.”  
“So you know my name?”  
“You are wearing a name tag Captain, an obvious give away I'm afraid”  
“Oh..oh of course...wh-who are you?” There was curiosity in his voice.  
“What do you know of me, you have been very curious of late”  
“Man?”  
“There are many names for what I am but man is not one of them”  
“Immortal?” I hesitated.  
“Yes”   
“Dangerous?”  
“Only to a select few” He walked closer to me to get a more detailed look of the man who saved him, in the flickering candlelight I could see his sandy blonde hair and the way his shoulder sagged from the wound but behind his composure there was a sadness, a terror that haunted his mind, so alike yet so different.  
“I guess I should thank you”  
“Oh…”  
“For saving me, without your help I may of lost my arm...But why did you, you could of left me there or could of...taken my life yourself...why save me?”  
“There is no glory in taking a man's life when he's inches away from death.”  
“Bullshit!” He saw straight through me and that was the effect of John Watson, the only man to ever see through to my soul.  
“I couldn't let you die.”  
“Why”  
“Does it matter?”  
“To me it does, you don't know me or owe me anything, my life means nothing to you, or did you save me to then kill me? I don't know what you want from me.”  
“The last thing I want is to kill you Captain.”  
“John, call me John, I-I just don't know how to process this or what to think, I have heard so many stories about you-”  
“I hope they are good ones” We both smiled together, I knew the stories he was referring to, I had a sordid past that I could not run from. We sat on the wooden floor and lit the fireplace, I spoke of my past and my troubles and of the man that turned me, his mind was open to accept that I was not going to take his life nor change it, for that was not my intention, but he listened with interest and with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a hope that I would be the one to save him from himself, and I was.  
“I am drawn to you John and I don't think I have the strength to watch you walk away.” He placed his hand on my frozen cheek and saw me for who I was...a man.  
“I don't want to walk away, but I need to know your real name?” My name? My name was lost with so many of the lives that I took, was I worthy of such a name?  
“My name is...is...Sherlock Holmes.” John then gave me a kiss that just brushed the surface of my lips, it was tender and real and I knew this man would not leave me, that I was worthy, I would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked me and I would not leave his side, John Watson was my salvation, and I was his.


	3. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I never imagined that I would have to live out my days without you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it’s not the fall that kills you, Sherlock. Of all people, you should know that, it’s not the fall, it’s never the fall. It’s the landing!

Captain John Hamish Watson was thirty three when he died, the nature of his death is more complex to spill over just one paragraph, time is needed and context...but I shall retreat to earlier memories as I relay my life to you. Our time together was not a long and happy life but rather a short end to what could've been forever.  
John was discharged from his post at the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers and sent back to London, I of course travelled with him and we resided in the very heart of Baker Street where my old lodgings were still held, I employed a new landlady from my residency in Afghanistan and I can say Mrs Hudson had done a fine job keeping my flat in the shape in which I left it in 1970, the dust had not been cleaned, nor a glass vial out of place, perfect. For John his world had ended, his mind began to deteriorate and soon the nightmares began, I would hunt at night and then be back before he awoke to calm him, his presence sent sparks to my non existent life. Blood was not hard to come by, and nor were criminals for they did not deserve their existence, well in my eyes anyway, but I was clever I made sure their bodies were never found so that my identity could be kept a secret. John understood the nature of my being but it took us a few months to adjust to a life together, it was our second week back in London and John had awoken from a dream that sent sweat down his brow…

‘John searched the dark room for his partner, the dream was so real, the bullet and the blood, a hand slowly curled over his shoulders and pulled him tightly, Sherlock may have been cold but the embrace always calmed him down, the familiar smell of tobacco and spice. John nestled himself into the nook of Sherlock’s neck and began to gently kiss his pale skin, he was so smooth and it was always hard to resist temptation. Sherlock groaned as John flicked his tongue against the two scars that secured his immortality, he was of course much stronger than John but he could control himself, he had done so with every other human he had been with. Sherlock made sure to go gentle, he never wanted to hurt the man he loved, he undressed him starting with his damp t-shirt and then slowly removing his pyjama bottoms, his cock was already hard from the loving embrace, John needed Sherlock just as much as he needed John. Sherlock let his blue silk robe fall to the floor revealing his pale chest and aching cock. “You are so beautiful.” Sherlock whispered as he laid John down on the bed, they moulded together as they began to kiss, allowing each other to explore...’

I can remember every detail like it happened yesterday and that is my curse, I cannot forget. I made love for the first time that night, I remember how our bodies connected, his touch, the warmth of his chest and of the life beating within him…

‘John grunted as he felt Sherlock enter, the sensation was indescribable, like everything was automatically right and in this moment the outside world didn't matter, nothing matters once you are taken by the person that loves you and knowing that they are yours and you are theirs. Sherlock controlled his thrusts and kept a pace that was right for John and it was so unlike anything he had ever experienced, all he thought about was John and the passion that engulfed them both, the sensations that resonated around his dead body, he felt alive!’

John was mine completely after that night, I held him in my arms afterwards as he fell asleep and I watched as his chest rose and fell with every delicate breath he took, so fragile. Our relationship expanded and he became the one and only person I trusted, we led a somewhat normal life, he would get the milk and the shopping as I hunted and experimented. We then soon began to document our adventures which you can find on his blog, we did everything together and he was the only reason I kept fighting...His life was so significant to me in the years that we were together, his health increased as he became a doctor for St Bart's hospital, he was needed by everyone who encountered him, a force for good that I could not contend with. But my past always interfered, Moriarty began to send more letters for me return to him and he did not accept my response…

‘Sherlock sat in the darkness as the midnight hour approached, he clutched his violin and began to play, John would be asleep by now he thought. The floorboards creaked as the intruder strolled through the door of 221B, he came up behind his creation who stood in front of the window, he brought his nose close to Sherlock's hair and inhaled the scent of tobacco and blood.  
“Oh my darling it has been too long.” His voice was seductive and most men fell at his words for he was stunning, his black hair was slicked back and his suit was most definitely designer, the very air around him knelt at his command but Sherlock would not falter, he would bow to this creature no more. Sherlock flinched as James lightly touched his back.  
“Not long enough it seems.” Sherlock placed his violin in its case and sat down in his leather chair, he motioned for James to sit opposite him.  
“Your place looks...well the same, but I will get down to business, come with me Sherlock.” Moriarty was not asking he was telling.  
“Why?” James smiled his Cheshire cat grin and giggled.  
“Because I told you too.”  
“I haven't answered your letters for a reason, you left me here without a second glance-”  
“You’re upset with me...oh Sherlock..poor, poor Sherlock?”   
“I am not your puppet any more and nor is Irene, you condemned me to this life so here is me accepting my fate.” Moriarty sat motionless then scanned the room, he was just as brilliant as Sherlock, he knew there would be someone else living here and it would be only a matter of minutes for him to find what he was looking for. He inhaled deeply and his eyes changed from black to red.  
“A human Sherlock? The smell is invigorating, how can you resist-” Jim walked to the bedroom where he found John sleeping soundly, Sherlock followed, he knew Jim wouldn't attack...yet.  
“Oh baby what have you been doing, you naughty boy, you picked a handsome one.”  
“I'm not playing your games any more Jim, find someone else.” Jim faced Sherlock, he smiled and grasped his chin.  
“Oh I just have.” He smashed his lips against Sherlock's and bit his way into his mouth clasping his tongue with his own, his game was not yet over and Sherlock knew it.   
“You are mine, my creation and this human will know who you belong to.” Sherlock pulled away viciously.   
Sherlock looked over at John who was still fast asleep, this man was his future yet he felt a strong pull to the man who created him. Jim crouched to take a closer look at John, he leaned in and engulfed the scent of life.  
“The way you care about this human, I would say you were in love with him but who could possibly love you, an immortal, a monster...We could live out humanity together, just you and me, we could rule everything and everyone, gods among men.” Sherlock scoffed.  
“You are nothing but a spider to walk alone for the rest of eternity, and if you think you can control me then you are at a disadvantage Jim, I am not your property.” James strolled out of the room and back into the living room, the darkness embodied them both.  
“Do not make me order you Sherlock, because you won't like the repercussions, this human will die and when he does you will have no choice but to come crawling back to me, my love there is no other fate for a soulless creature.” Sherlock turned his nose at the man who stole his life.  
“I am what you made me, and if you think you can get anywhere near John, you insult my intelligence!” He spat the words at Moriarty who smiled.  
“I would never insult your intelligence sweetie, but don't underestimate my abilities, I always win, one way or the other.”

The letters of course kept coming and time was running out, Moriarty would not take no for an answer and I began to panic, John was my only reason for existence and I would not let anyone take him away from me, especially the devil in a nice suit! But time was catching up and it would not be long before James followed through on his threat, John began to flourish and I had never looked at someone with pure admiration and passion before, his enthusiasm for life encouraged me to become kinder but I didn't care about anyone else all I cared about was this human life. This fragile being that had saved me in so many ways, he was everything I could of dreamt of and more, all I had to do was watch as his face lit up with happiness and right there, that is the reason for my existence, his happiness.

The days leading up to his death were like any other, he awoke from slumber and sauntered off to the bathroom, rubbed his eyes then collapsed back on to the bed to embrace me, this was his morning routine, and right now as I sit here in the gloom of 221B I can see him walk from the bedroom to the kitchen to make his morning tea, his essence lingers and I can take it no more, I see and feel him everywhere I look and the pain is unbearable. His death was not a painless escape from life, it was a malicious and painful cling to life, the memories are hard to explain but so easily remembered in my mind…

“Sherlock please pick up after yourself, these experiments are horrid...are those earlobes? My goodness, never mind!” John quickly looked away at the massacre on his kitchen table and stared at the man behind the microscope. Sherlock paid no attention and carried on dissecting the earlobe.  
“What exactly are you looking for?”  
“You wouldn't understand John, this is far too complex for your mind to comprehend, this experiment will change the perceptions of the mind!” Sherlock smiled and looked at John who stood next to him slurping his tea.  
“Are you high, some sort of immortal drug...it's an earlobe what do you expect to find, I'll tell you, not much.” John giggled as he pecked the cold cheek of his lover. He then proceeded to collect the mail, he shuffled the letters, most were addressed to him but one caught his eye, it was a red envelope and had a wax stamp on the back, not like any usual mail Sherlock had ever received, he went back into the kitchen, and placed the envelope next to the occupied microscope. Sherlock stared at the envelope, he picked it up and examined it before placing his finger inside the top of the envelop and breaking the seal, the letter itself was elegant and smelt of fresh blood, it was so inviting and needed, Sherlock licked his lips. John sipped his tea and watched with curiosity but Sherlock never faltered he read the letter then immediately put it into his dressing gown pocket, and proceeded back to his experiment. John looked at the immortal with questioning eyes but continued with his tea and began to flick through the morning paper.   
“Stop.”  
“Stop what, I'm just sitting here.” John rolled his eyes, what an insufferable man he lived with.   
“you’re thinking too loudly, it’s irritating.” Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on his microscope but he was worried, of course he would never let it show but John knew, his eyes didn't lie.

That day was the start of the end and it was such an end that I cannot bear to live my immortal life no longer. I must admit to being curious about Moriarty's game so I met him where it all began all those decades ago, he took me back to the beginning. James Moriarty and I have a relationship that is unbreakable but built on lies, pain and suffering, he played it to his advantage and he played it beautifully. The letter contained only a few words ‘come dance with me’ I of course knew where Moriarty would be, but I kept it a secret from John, I wanted him safe and out of the way, he stayed with Mrs Hudson after an hour of arguments but my word was final. The Ritz hotel in London is home to few spectacular ballrooms, it was the venue where we first met, my parade into the social world. I was accompanied by my father and brother, I shook hands and spoke to the right people who awed at my intellect and beauty, I showed every other gentleman up and they hated it, all except one. James Moriarty caught my attention, his eyes invited me to the pit of his soul, he was mesmerising, he bowed slightly as I caught his gaze and then subtly ushered me to follow, I excused myself from the woman I had been conversing with, she was dull, boring and terribly predictable. I knew from a young age that the company of men suited my tastes but I would uphold my duty and marry a suitable woman if the situation arose, but my life was over before that could happen. We strode into the shadows of the courtyard where we shared our first embrace, I say embrace, he took me for the first time up against the dark wall. After that night we were inseparable, Moriarty was powerful and mysterious, he was also my intellectual equal and I adored the attention. But I digress…

‘Sherlock walked silently into the empty courtyard, there was no sign of Moriarty but he always did like to make an entrance. Sherlock breathed in the clear air and looked up towards the starry sky, the memories flooded back of his parade and his lost family, they never heard from him after he ‘died’, but he couldn't think about that now he needed to think about the safety of John and Moriarty's game. Jim leant on the brick wall staring at the man opposite him, oh to have this man under his control again.  
“Your body became mine on this wall, in the seedy corner of a beautiful ball. I still think about that night, I could of killed you then and there after I got what I wanted but I saw potential, so I kept you all for myself, and look how you repay me!” Moriarty smelt the wall intensely and faced Sherlock, he gave him a predatory smile.   
“How I repay you? You took my life from me and I am suppose to be grateful for that?”  
“I gave you a better life, one where you can be worshipped, one where you will always be young and beautiful, a never ending life.” Moriarty yelled, his facade turned from silent to mad.  
“I never wanted it!” Sherlock wanted this over with, he wanted to return to John.  
“Stop thinking out loud Sherlock, your human will be fine...for now anyway”   
“How can I make this stop, it ends now whether you like it or not.”   
“Oh baby where is the intellectual God I created, you have become so slow with age, it's almost not worth it.”  
“I'm not the same man I was, never again will I do your bidding.” Moriarty began to laugh, it was malicious and full of evil, Sherlock cringed.  
“That's where you're wrong Sherlock, you will kill again otherwise I will take your human. Three lives...you will take three lives of my choosing and in return I will spare your little human.” Jim smiled.  
“Three lives?” Sherlock was wary, this wasn't like Moriarty to give up, where was the challenge?  
“Three lives, I'm a man of my word.” Sherlock didn't care about taking someone's life, as long as John was safe. But Moriarty wasn't done.  
“But here's the best part Sherlock, you have to take the lives of the people closest to you.” Sherlock knew it wouldn't be an easy way out.  
“Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Molly.” Moriarty smiled.   
“Three friends for your lover.”


End file.
